Meaning
by Alien Altered
Summary: As Veronica walked out of the bar, she thought sadly back on the fact that this changed nothing. Tomorrow they’d go back to their facades of smirks and mocking, and everything would be the exact same as it had been for the past four years. Lamb/V.


Meaning

**Meaning.**

**Note: **I know, I haven't updated any of my stories for a while but you have to believe me, life is sorta hectic at the moment. I have an exchange student, a sick mum, a 5000 word thesis, a sore eye, and have not got more than nine hours sleep in the last week. So, there's my excuse. This fic was actually inspired by a dream I had. So, um, I hope you enjoy. Please read and review, prove that my efforts are NOT futile.

Lamb walked tiredly into the seedy bar hidden in the narrow back-streets of Neptune. It was one of those bars where the smoke was so thick that it could mask your real face. Sitting in the dark, misty corners you could pretend that you were someone else, that you were not your name, and you had no past. But he was surprised when he sat down with his drink and realized that the hot blonde he was beside was the one and only Veronica Mars.

Through the smoke and music, Lamb glanced sideways to Veronica. She was slouched over the counter, nursing her drink, and watching him. But neither spoke. A few drinks later, and both were a little more relaxed, Veronica was the first to speak. "When you caught me and Duncan breaking into Grace's room, why'd you let us go?"

"It was the right thing to do."

"Since when do you care about 'the right thing to do'?" Lamb ignored her and downed another drink. Before talking again.

"I heard you didn't get into the FBI."

"Apparently, my record isn't good enough, too many arrests and shit."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Stay in Neptune, keep working for Dad. I dunno. There's not really much else I can do."

"I'm sorry." And for once he meant it.

"Don't be; besides being a PI isn't such a bad life."

"That's not what I meant. I feel guilty some times. I shouldn't have done what I did. I should have acted like a human rather than a… jack-ass. I don't really want to see you hurt."

"Any openings at the Sheriffs Department? I could work there part-time."

"Veronica…"

"And you don't need to train me, I already know how everything works and if I need help I'd ask Leo or Sacks." Lamb just shook his head in amusement.

"You deserve better."

"Than a local Sheriff's department? You sure you're not just trying to avoid me applying?"

"Better. Better than Logan's tantrums, Duncan's faults, your Mum's alcoholism, your best-friend's murder. Better than your underprivileged father, and over affluent school. Better than to be rejected by the stupid fucking fed's just coz you try to help people by actually doing something! Just, better."

"So do you."

"My mum ran away when I was eight, and I never even tried to stop her. My father abused my sister, and I never told anyone, not even after her suicide. You were raped and I laughed at you. I deserve much worse, not better."

"You held my hand when the doctor popped my knee back into its socket. You sat outside Grace's house to intimidate the father. You held me after Lily was murdered and my Dad was busy organising the investigation."

"I smirked when I heard of your STD. I smiled when I was promoted. I treated everyone like shit."

"And yet you're still a good person deep down. Very deep down."

"And so are you."

As Veronica walked out of the bar, she thought sadly back on the fact that this changed nothing. Tomorrow they'd go back to their facades of smirks and mocking, and everything would be the exact same as it had been for the past four years. But at least they'd had one night, one night to confess and console. Even if it changed nothing.

A week later Veronica had been offered a job at Weevil's uncle's mechanic, and was seriously considering taking it. On her way home from meeting with Weevil's uncle to discuss the offer, Veronica opened the mail box to discover a letter from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Tearing open the letter, Veronica discovered a handwritten letter, attached on top of a typed one.

_Dear Miss Mars._

_As you know, your application was rejected due to the large amounts of charges on your record. And although you seemed like an excellent candidate for our institution, it would be seen as odd to employ someone with such a polluted record. It seemed indisputable that you were not fit for our institute. However, five days ago we received a phone call from the Sheriff of Neptune, Sheriff Don Lamb. After much discussion with him, we have learnt about the grounds for all your charges, and whilst not the way that we would suggest to solve cases, it proves that you care more about helping others than yourself. But I must warn you, when you begin work here, you will have to change your behaviour. Sheriff Don Lamb spoke in very high regard of you, and has convinced us to change our initial response to your application. Attached you shall find the letter of acceptance. _

_And let me be the first to say, "Welcome to the FBI, Miss Mars, where everything happens for a reason." _

_Welcome to the team._

_Sincerely, John Tabrock. _

_Executive Manager, Federal Bureau of Investigations._

And there was the proof, the evidence that their little conversation had changed something. Not everything was the exact same as it had been for the past four years. Something had changed.

**Note:** Okay, please review. Pretty please? Pretty please with chocolate on top?

By the way. I am going to continue my other stories, just give me time. I am currently working on the next chapter of Protective Detail. Trust me, they will be updated soonish. Thanks for reading… and reviewing?


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